Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 39

The woman gently caressed Mark's wrist as she stared at him. Mark, in turn, stared intently at her, waiting for her to speak.

"Are you experiencing hair loss, Mr. Smith?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Yes," he muttered, "a little, but more abdominal pain."

She sighed and withdrew her hand from his wrist. "Have you been taking the medicine I prescribed?" she asked, her expression somber.

"Only when I have attacks," he replied, lifting his right hand to touch his wrist again.

"How frequent are the attacks?" she asked after a brief pause.

"They've gotten worse. They used to be once a week, but now every two days, at least," he explained.

"Did you try drinking alcohol again, after I asked you not to?"

"A man like me cannot live without a drink. I just reduced intake," he responded.

The woman shook her head and clicked her tongue. "No, Mr. Smith, you must stay away from it completely. It's cirrhosis, and we might have to admit you."

Mark sulked and looked away from her, leaving the room in a pin-drop silence.

"Mr. Smith," the woman began again, "don't you think with the increasing attacks, it's dangerous for you to stay alone in this big house?"

Mark sighed softly.

"Don't you think you should get married to that young woman I saw the other day at your house? I know heartbreaks can be painful, but it's been five whole years, and..." She was interrupted by a loud ring from Mark's landline on the wall.

"I'll get it," he said as he rose from the sofa and walked over to answer it.

"Mr. Smith, I've had enough! I'm scared, I might get caught!" Dr. Morrow's panicked voice came through from the other end.

"What?" Mark asked, seemingly unfazed. "Did something happen?"

"I was almost caught! The other doctor on duty almost caught me injecting her."

"And is that why you're scared?" Mark questioned. "You were careless, and if you do get caught, that's on you. You're the professional here; do better."

"I want to stop!" Dr. Morrow screamed.

"Don't forget your daughter. She's very beautiful," Mark reminded him.

"Leave my daughter out of this! It's me you have business with, and I demand to stop."

"What about your wife?"

Dr. Morrow sounded frustrated on the other end of the line.

"You don't stop until I tell you to, okay?"

Dr. Morrow let out a loud sigh and tried to calm himself down.

"The patient's daughter was here the other day," Dr. Morrow mentioned, immediately catching Mark's attention.

"What happened?"

"I told her that her mother needed a transplant and that I wasn't accepting her petty change anymore. I told her to get $50,000 or, better still, new money, or we'll abandon the wretched woman to finally die," Dr. Morrow explained, causing Mark to smile.

"That's extreme," Mark commented. "I like you. We'll talk more when we meet. God bless you."

"I'm glad I made you proud, sir," Dr. Morrow replied.

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"How hard could it be for her to just come back to me?" Mark said in frustration, spreading his arms wide. "I have done everything, John. Every single thing, but she continues to reject me and make me feel stupid!"